The Fading Son
by Marjorie K. Place
Summary: Pride and LaSalle are trapped in a collapsed building. Pride and LaSalle bonding. Revised back to the original two-shot to promote the stronger Father/Son theme (12/15).
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Like, C.O.L, I have never really taken to Pride as far as my stories go, however, I am overly fascinated by the Pride/LaSalle dynamic that has been created on the show and have come up with a short Sideways tale just for them.**

 _BOMB!_

"Christopher!" Pride yelled, pushing to his forearms as dust and grit stung his eyes and irritated his throat. His head whipped around, eyes searching. Slowly, he began to lift his knees forcing himself to an upright position. The entire room was spinning as warped visions swirled before him The smell and sound of burning electrical wires were signaling eminent danger all around him.

Somewhere in the chaos of the explosion, that now had them trapped underneath of what used to be an office building, Dwayne Pride had failed to notice that his surrogate son had been impaled with a piece of rebar to his midsection and was now buried under a couple of feet of concrete. The younger agent had climbed up on a ladder to investigate a suspicious noise in the ventilation system and accidently set the bomb off prematurely.

"Chris!" he yelled a little louder as his eyes to continue to take in a sight of mass destruction. Nothing but mounds of busted concrete, broken glass, and metal covered the room where they had been standing.

"Over here, King!" came a ragged cough as Chris started to gasp for air.

Maneuvering his way through the obstacle course of destruction, he made his way to his fallen agent. Struggling, Pride lifted the heavier pieces of concrete that were covering LaSalle's torso and chest, every muscle literally shaking.

"I got ya," Pride said haggard, taking a hold of Chris' hand. Already this debacle had taken a lot out of him. Hands gripped together, Pride tugged LaSalle to his feet.

"You okay?" he asked completely missing the fast spreading crimson blossom that was forming underneath Chris' grey Henley. And why should he have noticed it? It was after all hidden underneath the younger man's jacket.

The thought of wearing Kevlar had not even donned on them when they had decided to act upon a tip from one Percy's AFT contacts. It was a simple meeting, one man, and two armed agents in an office building set in the middle of town.

"Fine, you?" LaSalle was oblivious to the fact that his vital organs could actually escape from the near half dollar sized pancake of a hole in his gut as he swiped the grit from his face. But to be honest, he barely felt the pain. He was too wound up in the fact that they had let themselves walk into a trap to even realize that he was injured.

"I'm good," Pride answered, patting his friend on the back as he started to survey their hazy, dust filled environment of twisted metal and concrete. Whoever had planned for them to die in this godforsaken tomb of destruction knew what they had been doing. Consequently, they had made sure that the surrogate father, son, team had been on the bottom floor when the bomb went off, trapping them under more than 200 tons of concrete.

Even with first responders arriving immediately on the scene it would be several hours before there was even the slightest chance of hope of getting them out.

"We need to move, see if there was anyone else in the building," King told him as they started forward, stepping and climbing over the rubble. Given that it was Sunday, it was doubtful that they would find anyone else other than maybe a security guard.

"I'm right behind ya," LaSalle answered as a certain degree of lightheadedness began to take hold.

Over the last few years, Chris had learned to slow his pace for Pride's sake, but now he could barely keep up with the older man. To top things off he was starting to sweat. The idea that there was something gravely wrong started to set in when he realized how shaky and uncoordinated his moments were becoming. A live electrical wire was dangling right in their path and LaSalle didn't even seem to notice.

Thankfully, Pride stopped, throwing out a hand of warning.

"Watch out!"

"I see it," Chris answered taking a moment to catch his breath as King sought a way around the deadly wire. Tugging at his jacket, LaSalle caught a glimpse of the crimson pool that was now making its way down to his pant leg, staining his tan colored jeans.

Damn. This was going to be a problem he thought as Pride called out him again in time with a muffled roar of metal. If they could manage to make their way to a higher degree of rubble before the building decided to collapse again then rescue workers might be able to get to them.

For Pride's sake, LaSalle needed to keep moving he reasoned glancing at the only man he had ever considered a father figure. Pride was one of two significant men in his life, the other being Cade. There was also Laurel to consider. What kind of person would he be if he selfishly allowed the man to die because he would rather lie down and lick his wounds then to try to find a way out of here?

He started to open his mouth as a deafening crack filled the space around them, the floor trembling beneath their feet. Sparks flashed and a fire ignited as one of the live wires struck the remains of some drywall.

"Move Now!" Pride shouted, not bothering to look back, taking off in dead run of hurdles and uncoordinated leaps as he stumbled over the shaking foundation to a more stable area.

When the angry rubble finally stopped falling, Pride frantically began to look around for LaSalle. He had been right behind him. Hadn't he? Moving gingerly, Pride started to pan the ruined area.

LaSalle was slumped over a good hundred feet away near what used to be an inner wall, hiding a hand inside of his jacket. He wasn't on his feet? Why was he sitting there? Something was wrong.

"CHRIS!" Pride sprang back into action trying to make his way back through the debris from which he just came, but it was thicker now, more obstacles blocked his way.

A few times, Pride fell to his knees tripping over rubble in his frantic race to get back to LaSalle. More than once, he had to duck and almost crawl to prevent being struck by one of the electrical wires.

"King! Get back! " Chris shouted, afraid that the rest of the dilapidated building was about to implode on them. As Pride drew closer, the two agents locked eyes in what was a dead serious gaze, until the older agent averted his attention to LaSalle's hand.

With baited breath, Pride gently pushed the wind breaker aside to see Chris' hand. Blood was dripping between his fingers.

"Lem'me see," Pride said calmly, earning an uncooperative retort.

"King-"

Pride didn't wait for LaSalle to respond before latching onto his wrist and shoving his hand out of the way. The huge gaping hole, in his agent's gut caused his heart to sink.

"Why didn't ya tell me," he asked raking a hand over his mouth. It was bad enough that they had worry a lack of oxygen and the possibility of the rest of the building falling on them. But now this? LaSalle's injury had put them on a clock. The odds were that the younger agent would bleed death hours before help arrived.

"Didn't see where it would do any good-." LaSalle shrugged as Pride removed his outer shirt so that he could use it to apply pressure to the wound.

"It's not enough, King," LaSalle hissed as Pride shoved the cotton material into the oozing wound and slapped his hands over it. "Ya need ta go."

"I'm going to find a way to stop the bleedin,'" Pride wasn't sure how, given the fact that he didn't have any resources to draw from but he would find something.

Pride watched as the blood started to soak into his shirt at what seemed to be an alarming rate, making him wonder if the rebar had hit artery. But the blood was dark crimson, not bright; he kept reminding himself trying to dispel the idea that there could be damage to something vital.

"We need to move," King said thinking about the blaze behind them. It was small for now, and would most likely fizzle out once it was finished eating its way through the drywall, but Pride didn't want to take that chance.

Pulling his hand away from the wound, Pride replaced it with LaSalle's. "Keep pressure on it." He said looping Chris' opposite arm around his shoulder.

LaSalle made a pained noise as Pride tried to pull them both to their feet.

"I can't," Chris let out an involuntary cry as the pain that he had been holding back was now hitting him full force causing his knees to buckle, gravity pulling him back to the floor. "You're gunna hafta go on without me."

That wasn't an option. Pride gave his agent a menacing look. "Are you saying, I have to carry you, Son?"

"Meb'be," LaSalle couldn't help but grin through his pain as he remembered how Pride had carried Messier from that run down motel room, after Solomon Ekpo had left him for dead. He didn't actually think Pride could do it again he thought trying to find the humor in the situation.

"Ya aren't going to make this easy for me? Are ya?" Pride quipped with a tired grin of his own. He knew that if LaSalle was smiling that there was hope on the horizon.

"No, sir. You once told me, my job was to keep you on your toes."

"And you're doing a good job of it." Pride clapped LaSalle's shoulder. Messier probably outweighed, LaSalle by a good 25-30 pounds, but he wasn't sure if could carry the agent and make it through the rubble without putting them in more danger.

"Stay here, I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Sure thing, King," Chris wet his lips before settling his head against what had to be the last stable wall and closing his eyes. He had a feeling he was going to be waiting a long time.

* * *

For a third time, Pride made his way through what he now considered a path of debris. Free from the area of electrical wires, he made his way out of the main room and into what had been an entrance to a staff maintenance area where he remembered seeing the electrical control panel. Once he cut the remaining power, he and Christopher would be safe from any live wires.

Now onto the supply closet.

Supplies and tools were hidden in and amongst the pieces of concrete creating a game of hide and seek. With any luck, he would be able to find something….

Bingo. An unopened package of painter's towels and a roll of duct tape, It wasn't the best but for now that would be enough to create a makeshift bandage for LaSalle's wound and hopefully control the bleeding.

* * *

The sound of movement combined with the sensation of another presence, pulled Chris from his pain filled delirium. He would have like to have been sleeping, but it just wasn't possible. Instead he just teetered on a state of dozing and heavy meditation to try and dull the pain. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since Pride left. It could have been an hour or five minutes. The concept was beyond him.

Feeling someone close to him, he opened his eyes to a blurry figure. "King?" he swallowed as the figure knelt down, pointing a gun in his face.

"Think again."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: All right, it took me a while but I think towards the end of the story, I finally managed to captured the voice I was hoping to achieve. Thank you for all of the comments and the alerts. I enjoyed this little sideways adventure.**

LaSalle's eyes narrowed slightly, his chin jutting out in a sleepy hazy. More than likely this was the guy who had set them up. If Chris had to guess, something had gone wrong with the initial timer on the detonation device when he started poking around in the ventilation duct causing the man to become trapped inside.

"Lem'me guess, ya work for Zed."

"I'm a bounty hunter, work for shady lawyers mostly but when I heard the price on your bosses head, I just couldn't resist." The man with the gun grinned. "Now, if you're a good agent and tell me where Pride is I'll continue to let you take your chances with the rescue workers." The man answered, glancing at Chris' wound. "But from the looks of things, your odds aren't that good."

LaSalle turned his head towards a pile of rubble. "He's over there. Didn't make it."

The man rocked back on his heels, rising to his feet. "If you're lying to me…"

* * *

The sound of gunfire sent a chill through every fiber of Pride's being. Where had it come from? Not that he had to ask, he knew the sound of LaSalle's P228 when he heard it, but this wasn't it. LaSalle was already wounded and virtually helpless to defend himself.

* * *

LaSalle flinched as the bullet whizzed over his head. He was trapped with nowhere to go. Bleeding abdominal wound aside, there was nothing but chunks of busted concrete to use for cover. He was a sitting duck. He moved for his gun but the other gunman was already on top of him."

LaSalle cursed himself for being so slow with his reaction time, as his weapon was kicked out of his reach.

"Don't think you'll be needing that." The man sneered, driving his foot into the injured agent's already battered and bleeding abdomen. Chris howled in agony as the man's heel literally pressed all the way down to his spine.

"Damn, and I really liked these shoes." The man grinned trying to shake the agent's blood from the sole of his shoe. Taking great fascination, he watched as LaSalle twitched like a fish out of water, nearly convulsing from the pain and lack of oxygen.

"Tell me where your boss is and I'll make it all go away."

"He's right here," Pride stood, weapon trained ready for a fight. Briefly, he glanced at LaSalle never really taking his eyes off the gunman.

"Christopher, who's your friend?"

"He's a bounty hunter hired by Zed." Chris groaned still trying to catch his breath. The pain was so intense he thought he was going to pass out.

"What's the price on my head now? 50,000?"

"75," the gunman turned, placing all of his attention on Pride.

"Ya, hear that Chris?." Pride quipped, a slight shiver running up his spine. The younger man was no longer moving. He wanted to watch for the rise and fall of LaSalle's chest, but the current situation wouldn't allow it.

Both men stood determined, weapons ready.

"Looks, like your boy over there just checked out." The bounty hunter sneered as Pride remained determined and unwavering, Charmaine ready.

"Then two of us die and one lives."

The gunman shook his head with a grin. "Doesn't matter anyways, even if I kill ya, we're gonna run out of oxygen before I see any of that money, but seein' as I'm already here."

Two gun shots rang out but it was the sound of the last gunshot, echoed through the ruins causing a mild tremor. Pebbles of concrete and flecks of drywall rained down like an April hail storm.

When the dust cleared, Pride holstered his weapon, his head cocked. LaSalle was lying on his side, his weapon still warm in his hand.

"I had him," Pride moved across the rubble, sinking down next to his surrogate son.

"Just looking out for ya, King." LaSalle briefly looked up at his mentor and best friend trying to grin, but he was just too far gone. Everything was fuzzy and distorted, surprising him that he'd been able to get the shot off.

That was the thing about Chris LaSalle no matter what he always had the older agent's back. He'd crawl on his belly over blazing white hot coals to the save the man he affectionately called, "King."

Pride slid around the injured agent, placing his arms underneath LaSalle's and pulled him in close until the younger man was up against his chest. He had to keep pressure on that wound until help arrived. Dog, the bounty hunter, definitely hadn't done Chris any favors by stomping on his on the oozing wound, the heel of his steel toed work boot had only managed to add to the near septic like infection that was already growing inside of him.

"Once we get outta here, you and I are going fishin'." Pride kicked himself for not doing it sooner, lately; he'd been acting more like a boss toward the younger agent than a mentor and friend. He supposed it had something to do with the whole Baitfish coming in and tearing LaSalle's life all to hell. Pride felt guilty and sometimes didn't know quite how to deal with it.

But buying the bar and making Chris and the others a part of it had helped.

"We can go down to the little water'n hole off of county road 1432, you know the one that has the big catfish? Throw 'em on the grill with a little lemon juice."

The deafening silence was anything but golden as Pride sat there feeling the rise and fall of LaSalle's chest against his arms.

"I'm not gonna, let you die here, Chris," he vowed as LaSalle's head lopped forward like a ragdoll. "You hold on. Ya hear me?

Dying, checking out, slipping away in this hell hole of rubble was just not acceptable. Pride thought indignant, not that he thought about it much, but he was one who supposed to go first. Chris was supposed to be there to look after Laurel when he was gone. His daughter wasn't supposed to watch him bury the closest thing she'd ever had to a much older brother.

"You've still got things to learn, Son."

* * *

"After seeing what you look like I'd hate to see LaSalle," Abigail Borin stepped up to Pride's flank, brushing her hand up against his. For the record, Pride looked defeated and broken down, a side of him she wasn't used to seeing.

Pride looked down at her with a slight smile as their fingers touched. Now that he and Linda were officially divorced, he was free to fully pursue a relationship with the female version of Gibbs.

"Dwayne, this is LaSalle, he'll pull through," she added noting the forlorn look on the senior agent's face.

Pride said nothing. He was just beginning his relationship with Abigail and although she knew him well, she didn't understand the relationship he had with Chris.

"You want some coffee?" she asked, looking up at him with admiration, "Can't say it'll have any of that nasty Chicory in it though."

Pride managed a slight smile. "I think I've had my fill. But would mind keeping an eye on LaSalle for me," he asked without much elaboration. "There's something I need to go do."

Exiting the hospital, he walked across the street to where the dock overlooked the water and took out his cell phone, dialing a familiar number.

Linda's sleepy voice brought about thump to his heart. "Why are you calling so late? We're divorced." she groaned into her pillow.

"I know, I just needed to hear your voice." He swallowed, alerting her wife of 23 years senses.

"What's wrong?" she asked forcing herself to become fully coherent. "Oh my god, Laurel?"

"It's Christopher," he said softly, looking out into the water. Better than anyone, Linda knew how he felt about his surrogate son, they both thought of LaSalle as a part of their immediate family, the son they never had.

"Dwayne…I'm so sorry," There was a catch to her voice as she said his name. "Where are you?"

"Hospital," he muttered. Pride had to admit he felt a little sheepish about calling Linda with Abigail right there inside, but there were still things that only he and Linda shared and the upbringing of Christopher LaSalle as an agent was one of them.

He'd raised the young, angry vice cop by his own hand, teaching the ways of the city, his city. You wouldn't see Jethro Gibbs or Hetty Lange doing that. Pride had a passion that went beyond that of a typical agent; he had a heart for the city. For years now, he'd been prepping the Alabama born agent to take his place when his time came to step down.

But it was more that and some of his enemies knew it. He often thought about the night Savannah was killed and how naive he was to have thought that Baitfish's decision to go after Chris didn't make sense. Now in hindsight, it made perfect sense. Next to Laurel, LaSalle had become as close to him as own flesh and blood.

Brody and Percy were good agents and he loved them like family, but he'd never be able to replace LaSalle, not in a million years. The two of them just had a certain dynamic that wasn't shared with anyone else. Even from the very beginning, Pride knew that he and LaSalle were the same. That's how he knew he could take a shot at the agent and be confident that LaSalle wouldn't harbor resentment. He still owed the junior agent a cold one over that.

"You know we've been through this before," Linda sighed, assuming that he already had a waiting room of people surrounding him.

Pride started to retort, "I know but, this time…". He felt like such an idiot, he should have never allowed himself to feel so at ease with a bounty on his head. This was the second time his sidekick had been caught in the crosshairs of his enemies.

"He'll be okay," Linda said softly. "If you want, I'll come by in the morning and we can have breakfast, but I can't just drop everything and run up there. Things aren't the same anymore."

There was a long pause as Pride pondered her words. The entire reason, they had divorced was due to his job and the risks that came with it.

"Keep me posted?" she added, listening to his breathing.

"Sure." He ended the called and shoved his phone into pocket, turning to the water.

For a long time, he just stood staring out at the darkness. He'd almost forgotten about Abigail until he felt her hand run down his back.

"They just brought LaSalle out of surgery," she said with a slight grate to her voice. "They had to remove his spleen, but the doctor said he'll make a full recovery."

Pride closed his eyes, a silent prayer of thanks running through his mind. He turned into her, wrapping his arms around her small but curvy frame.

"His spleen," Pride exhaled, feeling a pang in his chest as Borin looked up at him.

"You do know it's something you can live without?"

"It's the point." Pride chuckled, slinging his arm around her shoulder as they started back across the street.

* * *

"King?" Chris LaSalle looked a little confused as the anesthesia lifted from his brain and allowed cognitive thought to return.

The older agent was sitting in chair, reading the morning paper. Yes, the newspaper. It was folded into thirds allowing for his other hand to guide a warm croissant with praline butter into his mouth.

"Welcome Back, Christopher," he said still engrossed in the hometown musicians article the he was reading.

Chris titled his head upward and inhaled deeply, the warm tantalizing croissants teasing his empty stomach. "Linda was here."

"That she was."

"Then those croissants are for me." Chris LaSalle knew that he could always count on Linda to bring him comfort food whenever he was under the weather or in this case seriously injured. He was glad to see that some things had not changed in the face of divorce.

Pride picked up the bakery box and passed it to the ailing agent, ruing the day when LaSalle would discover that he no longer had an iron stomach. He should have been surprised that the man was attempting to eat solid food so soon after surgery but he wasn't. He only hoped that LaSalle didn't pay for it later, when his tender abdomen realized it had been torn open and then repaired. It was a gastronomical catastrophe waiting to happen.

Chris took a huge bite, savoring it until the very end. "This is the best part of being impaled, shot, stabbed…"

Pride grinned as the younger agent began to lick the butter off of his fingers.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Chris reached for another croissant, "You tellin 'me we were going fishin. " The rest was just a blur.

"As soon as you're ready," Pride pulled to his feet watching LaSalle's eyes light up.

"How 'bout next week?"

"We'll see," Pride grinned.

"I have a question though," LaSalle thought for a moment trying to fill in some missing pieces. "How'd we get out of that buildin'?"

"I carried you." Pride quipped, palming Chris' shoulder as he tried to stifle a laugh. "I'll be back in bit. I've gotta let Brody and Percy have a moment with ya. But then you and me, we're gonna talk."

The two female agents had been waiting half the night to see their fallen partner.

Ah, here it comes. LaSalle thought as he gave his surrogate father a proud nod.

 _Fin!_

 **A/N: (12/15) just a side note, Chapters 4-7, the Crow series has been taken down because it wasn't quite fitting the Father-Son, I wanted. However it may reappear as its own separate story sometime in the future.**


End file.
